Where it started
I sat in that waiting room
with a list of questions.
Four years ago I was diagnosed with arthritis in my hip. What started as a strain that wouldn't heal ended with an X-ray showing significant joint damage. I was referred to a consultant.
Sitting in that waiting room, I ran through every question I wanted to ask. But the moment the consultant told me there was nothing they could do, my mind went blank. I almost didn't want to ask questions. If I didn't ask, it wouldn't feel as bad, and I could go back to living my life.
The medical jargon, combined with receiving difficult news, made it almost impossible to take in what was being said. I left with some understanding, but not enough. And the next appointment was the best part of a year away.
I left with no notes. Friends and family asked how it went and made well-meaning suggestions: try stretching, ask about this injection. None of it applied to me, and I had nothing to show them, no record of what had actually been said. The information was lost in the system. Or in my memory, which amounts to the same thing.
"I wanted to build something that helps people in that room not feel so alone, or so scared."
What we're building
A clear record
of every room that matters.
Listenin is built on one idea: that the information exchanged in important meetings belongs to the people in them — not just to the system. We're starting with the rooms that feel most overwhelming. Doctor's offices. Benefits assessments. School meetings. Legal consultations. Housing hearings.
We think clearly worded, accessible records of what was said can change outcomes. We're building towards that — one meeting at a time.
Ready to try it
before your next appointment?
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A footnote on listening
Before building Listenin, I spent years as a documentary filmmaker. Self-shooting, directing, sitting across from people in their most important moments and asking them to trust me with their story. You learn quickly that the most important thing in any room isn't the camera. It's the question, and what happens after the question is asked.
My experience with arthritis wasn't the most serious version of this problem. It happens to people receiving a cancer diagnosis. To parents fighting for their child's school support. To people whose right to remain in this country depends on what gets said in a single meeting. The feeling is the same: you're in the room, and the information isn't yours.
Listenin started as a way to fix that. To give people back what was said. In their language. On their terms.